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Holding it in
As a three year old who just had entered school for the first time in the goodness of life, I was just starting to get used to the daily routine of saying goodbye to my mother, and adventuring through a new land of wonders; that being the sandbox station in the center of the classroom. After weeks had passed, I had learned to dwell in the enjoyment of singing my ABC’s, filling in the puzzle pieces, and gobbling up my crackers during snack time. Then it struck me. It was an incident that forever changed my perspective of school. A day I forbade myself to forget until this very day.
Ever since I had arrived preschool that day, I was in deep need of using the potty; which would now be called “the restroom.” Though, there was one slight problem, I was too frightened to ask. Was I too quiet? Or too shy? I wasn’t sure. But if there was one thing I didn’t want to do, it would be to ask for permission to go. So, after hours and hours of play time, story time, singing time, and all of the above, I had forced myself to hold my urine in. Finally, during circle time, I had decided enough was enough. I stood up and went to ask one of my teachers, Ms.Bahls, if I could go to the potty. Predictably, she said, “Yes”, then lead me to the bathroom that was inside the classroom.
As I went in, I was struck with a feeling of relief, knowing that I wouldn’t have to hold it in any longer. But, as I slowly pulled down my pants, my urine suddenly had burst out like a volcano to the floor. Expectedly, my pants, my undergarment, and the bottom half of my body was drenched with something worse than water. In shock and in panic, I started to silently cry, not sure of what to do. I remember thinking to myself, if I go out to tell the teacher, then everyone will see my without my pants on. But, if I stay in here forever, who’s going to remember to rescue me? This internal dilemma continues to infiltrate my mind. I remember thinking to myself, Oh Tiara, you are so dumb. Why couldn’t you have asked to go to the potty hours before? If you had done so, none of this would’ve happened. I started to agree with myself in tears. Eventually after crying soundlessly and just standing there waiting if someone noticed I was gone, I heard a knock; a knock that saved my life.
“Tiara? Are you okay in there?”, a familiar voice asked.
Though, instead of responding, I remained still and cried even harder, silently of course. After seconds and seconds had passed, the door finally opened and Ms.Bahls was standing by it in awe. She then came to comfort me as the tear lines were still visible on my face. She told me that everything would be okay. Luckily, in Preschool, bringing an extra change of clothes was a requirement; now I knew why. As Ms.Bahls helped me change, I didn’t forget to stop and thank God as to how grateful I was. Though this messy occurrence may have traumatized me, I have learned to appreciate the taking place of this event because it taught me a lesson.
Never be afraid to ask. Especially if the result of restraining your question may distort the functioning of your bladder.
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